It seems like such a simple thing – to stay awake.
With no earth to quake and no preparations to make, but simply to be.
To be near, those dearest to the heart of Jesus, invited to go along
Step away from the throngs and people, and in the stillness of prayer
found themselves feeble.
More feeble than they wanted to admit
Not quite quitting, but not fitting into the dynamic roles of prayer
They thought themselves to be.
And in response the words of Jesus come to you, and to me.

“The Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

Not seeking their shame, and not calling any names,
but framing the moment in grace
Even while his own death was on the horizon,
he saw through their eyes, and the lies
Of a moment that could never be judged by performance
Because it’s not just about what we do, but who we are.
Jesus knew we were far from the Father
And that distance makes us depraved,
enslaved to patterns of sin we didn’t even begin,
but were born into.
As he went to the garden to pray for relief,
he discovered his burden once more
The Father whom he adored, reflected back the love of a heart broken
Words spoken, “not my will, but thine”, all the time his own heart troubled,
Doubled over in painful expectation,
that launching New Creation would cost him his life
Pain cut like a knife, returning to find his friends asleep,
not keeping their eyes focused Or sharing in his Passion.
Still, compassion in the moment stirred action,
A re-action filled with Love, a statement not shoving their sin before them,
But not ignored then, like a sword dividing bone and marrow
Narrowly escaping into freedom, we gasp for New Creation Life.
The strife and suffering he endured out of love,
opened a way for us to stay near

But it’s still quite clear we are weak, and seek places of comfort and ease
That we’d rather lean up against the trees, than stay on our knees
Even as he frees us to fly, we cry out for better legs,
and he begs us to stay awake,
But when he finds us asleep, he will not keep quiet, but speaks,
Into moments of false peace he stirs an awakening
A quakening of the ground that was never sound enough to stand
The land beneath our feet becomes unstable as it receives new stability
Our ability to fall asleep in such moments should cause us alarm
There’s no harm done by others, of which we’re incapable.

It’s inescapable on our own, but the love of our Father’s throne has come
Has prayed, and has stayed awake on our behalf,
While we were napping, he was mapping out a new revelation of Love
Inviting all of us to not only see, but to be,
the canvas on which he masterpieces
This Master, Jesus, not demanding or coercing, not forcing us to bow,
But allowing us who are still drowsy with drooping heads
Stumble up out of our beds, and see…clearly.

This.Is.Love.

He calls out, bloodied and broken on the tree,
“Come, and follow me.”
Follow me and give your life for others, loving all men as brothers
Even the ones with whom you disagree.Even those who have the power,
for in this hour you see all earthly power stripped bare,
Unable to bear the burden on his sagging shoulders,
boulders will be rolled in place
And their faces will smile as if they’ve won.
But he has not been overcome.
He has loved. He has submitted.
He has been fitted with a crown of life no King could ever earn

And by this we learn True Power. True Love. Truth.

Proof that his words were never empty, he meant every word.
What the world though absurd, he saw as invitation
To not only care for creation, but transform
To reset the norm, and form a path to something new
And all we have to do? Is stay awake.
There’s far too much at stake for us to snooze,

So we choose now as those made response- able,
the child from the stable has unleashed
His love in our midst, his suffering gift signed for us to inherit.
And no level of merit would deserve,
what he came freely to offer and serve.

So as we look to the cross, at the man crucified for treason,
Built into our annual church season,
a reminder of the reason for all that we are
Not settling for sub-par standards, but only that which proclaims THIS Love
Rediscovering our identity as those who’ve been awoken, more than words spoken
Before bed and meals, his grace heals and arrives with every breath,
As we embrace his death, not on our own strength, or simply for Heaven’s sake
But because such passion was offered to re-create us,
Awake…

There is an unseen cancer, and with plenty of time to roam
It’s fused itself into bone, not simply in homes but in the structures of our own
Zones divided by race and income are just the surface, and should make us nervous
That maybe we’re not as developed as we thought.
But don’t get caught up thinking we’re held down, instead look around
An honest bit of self aware, will beat the kick and snare to drive this rhythm into
A better tomorrow, though it is not yet ours to borrow.

Because sorrow and tears filled years of history,
it’s no mystery that the health and wealth
Of so many including myself are not the same enjoyed by all,
even though all have sinned
It seems opportunities for redemption have thinned if you live downwind
or have the wrong type of skin,
and no one wins when race sets the pace for how much grace
One is allowed. And so, lifting heads bowed,
or coming down from the clouds of denial
we can confess that even if we didn’t make the mess,
it’s ours to offer healing.
There is no sealing off the past
In Ziploc bags and counting them as waste,
no hasty retreat from the racism our feet were born standing upon,
it’s one thing to recognize it’s wrong, and another to want it gone,
and still another take action,
gaining traction as one hand joins another,
sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers,
Pulling back the covers of injustice and schisms,
including all the -isms we’ve been sold as healthy rhythms.
Racism – not just blacks and whites, but a systematic fight for the right to thrive,
and we agree that all lives matter, but to scatter our attention with such chatter
is to lose sight of a brighter light
One that shines on both sides of the tracks, and the fact remains that no matter how much we strain
to prove we treat all men the same, the game hasn’t changed – just the rules,
and fools can see the tools are made for certain hands,
and so we stand and ask for something new.

We move from I believe, to I do.

And the shoes we’re wearing are better suited for old paths,
so in this aftermath we may be asked to walk barefoot as we discover
just what it feels like to press skin to such a ground as we found
we’ve been surrounded by this entire time. It’s a higher climb than we may have thought,
but the fight has already been fought by plenty who came before,
and to ignore their words would be an absurd mistake of the grandiose,
to come so close and look away would be to play dress up,
but our grandchildren ask us not to mess up, they need more than this.
They ask us not to miss a chance to plant seeds,
and dance swiftly toward a healing that must come, and can not from legislation alone,
but starts in our home, as we reach out of comfort zones
to share in the cares of those we were previously unaware.

As we stare deep into our own cares and desires,
we continue to light the fires of selfish ambition that we’ve been wishing
our nation would be rid of once and for all. So we answer the call,
and look up from our own cup, striking up conversation and demonstration
that goes further than the greed of immediate need, but plants seeds for a new tomorrow.
The sorrow of a trampled population set free by compassion of a New Nation,
not simply elation but a joy built on solid Hope
that when we’re at the end of our rope – we are not alone.
We’ve been shown a better way, and offered a brighter day.
It’s not somewhere floating in outer space, it’s right in front of us, and labeled as race.

We may not know exactly how to remove the cyst,
But we know the first step is to admit it exists. Relaxing clenched fists, to open palms
Reminded by the Psalms of a deeper scene,
And pointed there again by a man who had a dream…

Advent, an event meaning “arrival”, no rival strong enough to keep this weakness out
Setting down clout and power, vulnerable as a flower
In a field, a creation to be healed, as his life peeled back the skin of what appeared,
It’s what the powers had feared, as his birth cleared paths for what could be.
Just when we thought we were knowing
Words became full and overflowing
Showing just what God meant when he spoke His love
What it looks like when down below is interrupted by up above
As the dove delivered hope to the ark, so this child embarked with hope
to stark lands flooded with sin
Revealed dry grounds of New Creation, where new life could begin
Where women and men, enemies and friends, poor and oppressed,
and those not well dressed
Where meek and overlooked, and those shook by the quakes of those in power –
would know now is the hour, now is the time of their release.
When strivings can cease, and peace arrives in moments mild,
a child too wild to explain, would be given the name Jesus.
Because he would save his people from their sins.

And so begins the story that breaks all mold, as it was told to shepherds and kings
And the truth still rings loudly in ways that offend the ear, God coming near,
Don’t Fear! Cried the angels, scaring those who gathered, as light shattered the darkness in ways unexplainable, the unattainable submitting to be contained,
as creation strained to hold in the divine

Lives like yours and mine still shutter at the mere uttering of
something so offensive
Apprehensive to understand where this could all be heading,
palms sweating as we know this child Mary is begetting is the one who calls
“Follow Me” to we who were once a stranger,
From the manger the call of the Son has begun, not waiting for us to understand,
but launching fully His Fathers’ plan. Not filled with demand,
but filled with invitation. Not mapping out implementation, but offering a heartbeat to echo, as we let go of our own rhythms, and discover the tune of New Creation.
A clear signal station broadcast in full surround,
seeds sown in the fertile ground of His Spirit.
We press into the crèche and begin to hear it.
Calling us to examine privilege and power,
the towers we’ve built remove us from those he loves
As we shove for views, or find more comfortable pews, we’re cruising right past
the injured brother, the least of these, the “other”, and as baby cries to mother
we realize this swaddled child inside has flung wide the gates,
we don’t wait long to deduce, that all Heaven has broken loose with what could be – the same word that spoke all things into being, now being held in the arms
of his creation. As this season offers to be more than vacation, and becomes a pause for all creation to remember: the day God became weak. Earth inherited by the meek, and the Word enfleshed can speak into our lives still this season.

What is the reason for His arrival this year?

Not that we fear falling short, for all have sinned and there’s no way we could ever begin to earn what was given by free grace, but place your arguments on hold, and let go of the bold claims you may have on what will be….to ask yourself with Mary – why me?

Why might God be keen to break from routine, and make a scene in the midst of your plans? To what lands might he call, and would you stall or fall in step behind, as he reminds you of the love with which he leads, the ways he intercedes on your behalf, the laugh of tiny baby – engulfed in manger, open to danger, knowing exactly how you feel. The connection is real. And so is his call – follow me.
Step out of comfort and power, step into the hour of shalom –
for the sake of your home becoming,
As drummer boys drumming remind you of the heartbeat of this season,
remember the reason.
May advent be more than just a word, but an absurd time of divine climbing into creation through the womb of your heart, and may it be the start of something New, as the Kingdom is proclaimed through you.

Us to escape is not that great, because our fate has been decided no matter how hard we may fight it.

We are His, Beloved.

And I don’t mean to rub it in but some things are urgent to understand.

Like when a man lights a fire to a chair,

when life isn’t fair and all the things that could go wrong seem they do,

When you have spent your last dollar, last moment, last emotional drop of what you could summon,

And nothing’s coming to prove it was all worth while, so you try to smile because the world tells you

That’s what we mean by strength.

But the length that you’ve been stretched to, a wretch too focused on exterior to really notice.

You’re imprisoned, and the risen Savior wants to set you free. Relentlessly.

The

Spirit of Adoption – not an option for identity crisis, so receive this in a way that forms your soul – you don’t need to have control. Salvation comes as release and freedom, crashing through

The false boundaries of before, when we were too poor and unsure the pure grace of God we find as Jesus comes near, because fear doesn’t deserve to tell your story – the more you and I realize the glory so close at hand, set free from all demands – we’re empowered to take a stand.

In a land of those who feel unworthy, for only thirty bucks a month you change a life for generations

And nations are transformed by love of God – revealed in those who’ve made a new decision to join His mission. One that envisions the Kingdom coming near, and not all of us getting out of here.

Because our eyes have seen a great light, reflected in smaller sources – courses not yet set in stone – still time to own as we’ve shone bright – no matter how dark the night, we know that death has no power over New Creation Life.

For this, some good advice is: to shut off our devices, as they flood us with news, refuse to get stuck buffering – too many are losing a sensitivity to the causes of suffering. So take action, be filled with compassion, cause love is not Rationed out for grand moments of global mission – but also for those currently in your daily vision. We realize that getting “into the Kingdom” is less about Jesus as a key that unlocks a gate, and more like Jesus is a Love who has already conquered hate

And when you Love like this, you’re not holding a ticket punched for heaven, but leavening dough here and now, from the west out to the east, a bread of life for a table set to feast. Proclaiming and partaking, by simply taking time to sit by those who are lonely, because if you only want to be close to Jesus – you draw near to those His heart breaks for – and aches for them to know they are dear.

It’s clear we’re sometimes too focused on all the ways He Frees US – but when you don’t see those who are suffering – you don’t see Jesus.

But Mercy is Multiplied as the gospel arrives and thrives in the lives of those wearing masks – not another task on a stack piled high but a child of God unable to deny He’s a good Father – He did not cause your pain, but holds you through it. And if you want it redeemed only he can do it.

But be prepared beyond the shouts, because doubts will begin to assail, asking what about when we fail? What about when rooster crows, and Jesus knows every time but never excuses Himself from the table. He’s able to forgive, and give new invitation, a declaration of value, of Beloved. And asking – Do you Love me?

Then do not abandon your calling. Stop stalling and falling through the cracks, when temptation slaps the chord, you cannot afford to fear, but hear it clear – Will you follow me?

Not only follow but set an example – be a sample – of how it looks when Kingdom takes

over,

As YOU lead, and intercede in what it looks like to bleed for the cause of loving others.

The sisters and brothers you once overlooked, recipes of a kingdom feast now cooked and set to table.

Cause you’re able and empowered for more, the curtain tore so we could explore all the gifts of Spirit – so come near it – and while you’re at it, bring a friend, ensure His transforming Love will not just be a trend but flow without end – by prayer and the Word – no longer blurred as you serve in ways only you’ve been wired. And rewired as Creation is made New, that means you – all the way through.

We find you’ve done more than just joined the movement as apprentice.

You’ve been transformed and called Beloved by a God who remains Relentless…